


White, Black and Red

by BabyBarnOwl



Series: Taint [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alpha Keith, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Evil!Shiro, Imprisonment, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Omega Keith (Voltron), Victim Mocking, alpha shiro, dynamic change, suggested rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-23 08:02:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8320186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyBarnOwl/pseuds/BabyBarnOwl
Summary: Shiro never escaped the Galra, never wanted to, never tried. When he lost his arm the druids took him, experimented on him, and realised how much potential he had. They brought him into their order, and he’d thrived. Now he had his hands on their latest acquisition, the Red Paladin of Voltron.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Warning!* Suggestions of rape, and body modification.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Evil!Shiro (I know he's sometimes called Kuro, but I'm calling him Evil!Shiro because he is still Shiro and not another evil personality)
> 
> Since it's the month of Halloween I wanted to write a little something and the druids are basically witches so Druid Shiro!
> 
> I don't know if I'll write more so for now I'm leaving it as a One-Shot.
> 
> Happy Halloween :D

Keith’s mind raised itself from the black fog that held it down, slowly, unhurriedly, like a mind on the weekend that knows it doesn’t have anything to get up for.

He could hear voices above him, two of them, but he couldn’t quite understand the words. Waking up was hard, took too much effort, he had none to spare on anything as complicated as words. So he turned his thoughts to more important things, like how cold it was. Everything was cold, every inch of him, everything he touched, was so, very, very, cold. The chilly air nipped at his exposed skin, raising goose bumps. The slab he was lying on pressed it’s cold, unrelenting, body into his back. The…wait…slab?

Keith tried to rouse his mind, to think. The warm Saturday morning feeling vanished, but not the fog. It stuck to him, pulling him down, sucking him into its void. He fought to keep himself from drowning in it, struggled so hard the fight became physical. He writhed on the slab, or tried to, but his restraints where physical as well as mental. Something held him down, strapped across his legs, arms, and chest.

Above him someone chuckled. It sounded deep, warm, male.

Suddenly, the fog disappeared.

His eyes snapped open. Then snapped shut again. It was so blindingly bright he felt like his retina’s had burned in the few moments they’d been open.

Something clattered, or moved, and a voice, familiar yet unplaceable, spoke.

“You can open your eyes now; the light isn’t over your face anymore.”

A name teased the tip of his tongue, he was sure he knew that voice. He would know for sure if he followed the voices advice, but some part of him didn’t want to know. Some part of him was forcing that voice to be unplaceable.

In the end he had to comply, he needed to know what was happening. The voice hadn’t lied, it was still bright, but he could see. He had half expected a face to be hovering over him, instead he was met with grey. An unmarked, barren wall of grey that served as the ceiling. Keith didn’t know that ceiling. Fresh fear drove his mind into overdrive. He searched his memories, rattled his brain, tried desperately to understand where he was. He found nothing, no explanation. As his mind had failed, he let his eyes do the searching. He did not like what he saw.

He was lying down, strapped to a table, entirely naked. In his last memory he had definitely been wearing clothes. 

“Good morning sleepyhead.”

Keith’s eyes jumped straight to the voice, and this time the face of a ghost hovered over him. He couldn’t tell if he was waking up to a nightmare or a miracle. His vision wavered; tears filled his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, to say everything he’d ever wanted to say, to say everything he’d told to his tombstone, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know where to begin, where to end.

All he got out was “Shiro,” his voice cracked as he said the name of his dead friend. The tears threatened to spill so he blinked them away, he wanted to see Shiro clearly, to burn him into his memory. The more he looked the surer he was that this was Shiro. The front of his hair was white, and there was a scar across his nose-he really didn’t want to know how he got that- but everything else was the same.

“Long time no see; how have you been holding up?” The ghost asked. He had a soft smile on his face, one Keith knew well. Shiro would wear it after he was finished scolding Keith for doing something reckless, and was about to tell him how glad he was he that he was safe. The last time he’d seen that face was a week before Shiro had left for the Kerberos mission. Keith had nearly gotten himself killed trying to do a new stunt on his bike. He’d ended up with stitches and Shiro had come to pick him up from the ER. Shiro had given him the safety speech, like he did every time, and then put on that face. 

Keith had told him to “stop being so fucking overbearing,” and the face had disappeared. Then they’d argued, and Keith had stormed off. It was his last memory of Shiro. He’d played it over in his head, so many times he could recite you their argument word for word. In the year since Shiro had died he’d missed that smile the most.

“They said you were dead,” Keith whispered, voice wobbling, and the tears were back. He tried to reach for Shiro’s hand, but couldn’t, the restraints held him still. He saw Shiro’s eyes flick to the hand he’d tried to move, but the dead man didn’t reach for it.

“Really? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, I have been gone for more than a year,” Shiro’s eyes crinkled warmly as he grinned at him, as if sharing in some kind of joke.

Keith’s mind raced back to the present. That’s right, Shiro’s been gone for more than a year, he should be dead. How was he here? He needed to ask, to find out what happened.

“What’s going on? Why are you- why are we here? Why am I tied down? Where’s my team?” He’d been with everyone, Allura, the princess of Altea, Paladin of the black lion, and the rest of the Paladins, Hunk, Lance, and Pidge. They’d been on a diplomatic mission. How did he get here? Where were the others? His eyes darted around, searching for them. He strained against his bindings to try and get a look around, but saw nothing but unrelenting grey.

“Hey, hey, take a breath, panicking isn’t going to help.” Shiro placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder as he spoke, and suddenly Keith had to recoil. The room was cold, but Shiro, Shiro was ice, so cold he burned. Shiro’s grip tightened at Keith’s reaction. He lent down, closing the distance between their faces. Somehow that scared Keith. Shiro had never scared Keith before.

“Calm down,” his voice wasn’t soft, or warm, anymore. Keith froze like a deer in headlights, staring at the smiling bumper that was about to kill it.

Then Shiro receded, pulling himself upright again. His grip loosened, but he didn’t let go. Keith stared at him, now unsure. He looked like Shiro, he sounded like Shiro, but this couldn’t be Shiro, he didn’t act like Shiro.

“Good, now one question at a time, what do you want to know?” Not-Shiro asked, his voice warm again. He gave Keith’s should a friendly pat before finally letting go, it felt like being thumped with ice.

“Stop indulging it,” a different voice spoke. It was older, raspier, and female. Keith had forgotten that there had been another voice, which meant another person, present. Not-Shiro’s face turned up to look at the other creature.

“I can’t say hi to an old friend?” he asked, a little bit of mocking in his voice. The woman huffed in response. Keith turned his head look at her. He couldn’t see much; she wore a low hood to conceal her face, so she was mostly shadows. Keith realised that she must be a druid.

“He’s experimental material,” she sounded like she was explaining to a child. 

Keith’s blood froze. ‘Experimental material’. He’d heard stories, horrific stories, about what the druids did. He wanted no part in that, but the druids would never give him a choice. As he started to realise his fate he began to pull at his restraints, twist and jerk in them, but there was no give, they held him tight against the slab. The two beings above him ignored his struggles in an almost professional manner.

“I never said he wasn’t, but he’s a friend too.” Shiro was still smiling as he talked to the druid. Keith shivered, but not from the cold. Shiro glanced down at him.

“You cold? Sorry, you’re going to have to bear with it. This whole area is kept at this temperature, slows down the rotting bodies.” Shiro shrugged and gave him a ‘what can you do?’ look. Keith felt sick. This wasn’t Shiro, couldn’t be Shiro.

“Stop it,” he was almost pleading. The-Keith didn’t know what to call it-imposter? Fake? Raised an eyebrow.

The druid snorted, “we haven’t even started yet,” she sounded annoyed, “this is going to be tedious if it’s begging already. You said it was strong willed,” she was addressing Shiro now.

“He is…” Shiro looked lost in thought, like he was trying to figure out some kind of puzzle, “oh!” His face lit up as if he’s figured it out, “I know it’s scary not knowing what’s going on,” he said to Keith, before turning back to the druid, “Let’s explain what we’re going to do,” there was a spark in his eyes, it reminded Keith of when Shiro would talk about the universe and all the planets in it. He looked back down at Keith, as if expecting him to ask, so he did.

“What are you going to do to me?” Keith’s mouth felt dry as he asked, he was very sure he didn’t want to know the answer. Shiro’s smile stretched across his face.

“We’re going to turn you into an Omega!” He waited, expectantly, for Keith’s reply, but he couldn’t, Keith didn’t know how to respond. Keith was an alpha, he simply couldn’t comprehend how they planned to change him.

“Lord Zarkon decided on the experiment himself, be honoured,” the druid added when it became evident Keith wasn’t going to reply.

"Yes! He even wants to try you out if it works,” Shiro looked like an excited child. Disgust swirled in Keith’s stomach, he stared at them in mute horror. 

“Oh, don’t worry. We’ve never done this before, but I’m sure it’ll work, and if it doesn’t… well, you’re unlikely to die from anything we do to you. So there’s no need to worry.” It was the furthest thing from reassuring Keith could imagine.

It felt like a sick play was being acted out before him. Some monster had stolen Shiro’s skin and was parading around in it, telling Keith all the awful things it was going to do to him, and expecting to be congratulated. Keith couldn’t take it anymore.

“Go fuck yourself,” He spat out. He wanted it gone. He knew that they were going to torture him, humiliate him, in the name of knowledge, but this-pretending to be Shiro-this was cruel beyond a purpose.

At his words Shiro’s eyebrows knitted together disapprovingly.

“Keith, language.”

For a second, it was like he was looking at the real Shiro. The one that took care of everyone, the one that loved the stars, that loved to fly, not some ghastly future ghost. Keith couldn’t handle that. They were so similar, too similar. It was sick. It was wrong. It hurt.

He lashed out, struggled. Twisted and kicked, screamed in frustration.

“Go to hell you shit stain, cock fucking cunt!”

The imposter looked aghast, just like Shiro would. He’d never used that kind of language in front of Shiro before. Keith screamed again, but something cut across his voice. Laughter. The druid was laughing.

Shiro looked up at her, but Keith’s eyes didn’t leave Shiro, it felt like they couldn’t. Anger seethed in him, slowly rising the longer he looked.

“Got quite the mouth on him, doesn’t he? Worse than you when we first got you. Sure you don’t want to gag him?” The druid sounded delighted, Keith didn’t know why, and he didn’t care. Shiro’s eyes slowly fell back onto him. He no longer looked shocked. He looked disapproving again, and… there was something darker in there, something Keith had never seen before.

“No, Keith knows better.”

“Shut up, you patronising piece of shit,” Keith spat back. He almost said more, but the look in Shiro’s eyes stopped him. His usually grey eyes seemed to turn almost black, and there was a hollowness to them, like he wasn’t really seeing Keith.

“We’ll just have to remind him that he knows better.” His voice was cold, mechanical, like there wasn’t any emotion behind the words.

The druid laughed again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I'd do a continuation of this ages ago, and I did write it, but I hated how I'd characterized Shiro. So, I abandoned it for a while, and I finally got around to redoing it, I like how this chapter (and Shiro) turned out this time. 
> 
> Here it is!
> 
> (Oh, and I've been thinking the other Paladins fates, anyone want any messed up Shance based in this universe?)

Keith shivered.

There was a heaviness to his bones that only the cold bought. It weighed on him, coiled around his limbs holding him to the slab, restraint as real as the bindings holding him in place.

They had left him. Alone. With nothing.

It had been hours now, and he knew they weren’t coming back.

This was their punishment. To be strapped to the slab, still naked, in a freezing cold room. There he’d stay, without food, or water, or anything, until one of them decided his behaviour was acceptable.

Which would be a damn long time if Keith had anything to say about it. He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of thinking that they’d broken him, and since it was his behaviour the decision went on he’d say he had a damn big say in it.

IT was punishing him. The monster wearing his friends skin had promised to make him pay for his insolence. For his insolence. That thought burned at him, almost driving out the cold with its hate. His insolence. That thing had the gall to be angry at him when it paraded around with that face.

Keith laughed to the silence. It sounded small, desperate. The emotions causing it bubbled in his chest. The whole situation was absurd, cruel, and it wouldn’t break him. They wouldn’t break him.

The longer he waited the worse it got. Now hunger was starting to gnaw its way into his stomach, but it was a little gnaw, one that was easily ignored. He had gone far longer without food before this. Anger was all the fuel he needed. Anytime his stomach growled he would conjure that sickening, smiling face, and then he could barely even register that he was hungry, that he was anything beyond blindingly angry.

They had told him his punishment would last a day, but when someone finally returned it felt like it had been a lot longer.

“Hey there Keith,” that gratingly familiar voice called from the doorway. Keith grit his teeth, refusing to respond. If he had the choice he’d have deliberately stared at the ceiling, refusing to look at that thing, but he’d didn’t have the choice, the straps kept his head in place forcing him to stare upwards. So, the monster had no idea that even without them he wouldn’t be looking at him.

It walked into the room, clearly happy again. The clank of its boots against the floor deafening after hours of silence.

The monster quickly came into view. The cold, disassociated look was gone from its eyes. Now it looked friendly, excited even.

“Ready to get started?” it asked, leaning on Keith’s slab, face poised above him. Keith had the urge to spit at it.

He almost did, but before he made the choice final the monster moved back, out of range. Keith strained his head to the side, trying to see what it was doing, but he couldn’t, it’s stupid fucking body blocked his view. He could hear clattering, metal on metal, but that told him nothing. All he could know was to anticipate something, something bad.

He didn’t want to talk to it, but he needed to know. If he knew he could prepare, endure.

“Haggar won’t be coming today. Said she had more interesting experiments to attend to. I have to agree with her on that one,” it started before Keith could ask anything, talking in a conversational tone, “one dose is barely going to do anything, but we’ve got to give your body time to adjust. Flooding your system doesn’t work, makes for a pretty nasty death, found that out this morning.”

“What?” Keith croaked, and then bit his lip, instantly regretting speaking. The thing turned around, it had a syringe in hand with a need attached to it.

“Oh? No more silent treatment? Well it’s good to hear your voice,” it stepped closer as it spoke. Light glinted off the edge of the needle, highlighting it against everything else. Telling him that it was for him. 

Keith tried to squirm away, but he barely managed squirming.

It raised the needle and waved it slightly, “this is a hormone; you’ll need one shot of this every day to help your body change and accept the surgery.”

“Don’t you dare,” Keith hissed, putting venom into every word, but it was fear that filled his gut. Surgery, it had said. They were going to cut him open and play with him, mess with him, change him however they wanted. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to scream or be sick. Maybe both.

Some of what Keith was feeling must have showed because the monsters face took on a soft look and it reached out to Keith’s face with its free hand, brushing a lock of Keith’s hair aside, out of his eyes. Then it trailed its hand down along his cheek. It looked like a familiar, loving or comforting gesture, and maybe that’s what it was meant to be, but the context was wrong, completely wrong, and it made Keith shudder.

“It’ll barely hurt,” the thing whispered, voice aggravatingly soothing.

Then the hand on his face was gone, and suddenly gripping him just below the shoulder. There was a prick, and Keith made a noise of surprise, not expecting it so soon, and then a burning sensation. It spread into his muscle, stinging as the liquid moved. Keith watched it pull out the needle, a drop of blood wept from the incision site.

“Done?” Keith hissed as the thing threw away the needle. He tried to appear unfazed, but he could hear his heartbeat in his ears, the sudden movement had scared him, but he didn’t want it knowing that. It had too much power already.

“C’mon, it wasn’t that bad,” it said, sounding like an exasperated parent.

“Done?” Keith hissed again. To his own ears he sounded more collected, anger prominent this time. 

It sighed and shook its head, giving him a ‘what am I going to do with you’ look.

“Not quite yet. I need to put a cannula into your arm, then we’re done.”

Keith growled and twisted, again. Seeing how much movement he could get from his arm. The answer was none. 

“You’ll be better off with this,” it said, leaning over him, and producing a tourniquet from somewhere Keith hadn’t seen. The thing snapped it on, and it was uncomfortably tight around his arm, but he had no idea if it was meant to be that way. He kept trying, and failing, to wriggle. He knew it wouldn’t help him escape, but there was some sick satisfaction in making the monsters life harder.

“You’ve got good veins,” it mused, poking at his arm, and barely paying any attention to any other part of him. The was another sharp sting of pain, making Keith draw in breath sharply.

“There! First try, not bad,” the thing said, now grinning at him. Keith glared back, trying hard to communicate how much he wanted him dead with his eyes. It got some kind of point across as the smile on its face dropped.

It looked back down to his arm, now applying a dressing to keep the cannula in place. Keith re-contemplated spitting at it.

“So,” it said, no longer looking happy, or excited, but it didn’t look angry either, “before I leave, I thought we could have a chat.” 

He wasn’t getting that, Keith thought back at him.

“We won’t get a chance to talk like this again, not for a long time, maybe not ever,” it stopped, now looking at Keith half expectantly, as if hoping he would say something. He wouldn’t.

“Alone, I mean. Haggar will be here tomorrow.” It stopped again. Still Keith didn’t say anything. It took a deep breath and kept going.

“Okay, I’ll talk then. Haggar thinks I’m being too lenient with you. She wanted to try shock treatment, never got a chance to try it with me. She’s curios to see how much humans can tolerate, and next time you act out she might get her wish.” Keith growled at the threat, “I don’t want it to come to that, it doesn’t have to, if you behave.” Keith’s growl grew louder, “things could be a lot worse. You need to understand that. You could be in the arena, fighting to the death against other prisoners, or the other Paladins.” Keith snorted at that, that didn’t sound any worse than what they had planned for him. Fighting he understood. It was a sickening fate, but so was the one he’d been given.

“Haggar was going to just dissect you! She doesn’t use anaesthetic, or put you to sleep. Can you imagine that? What it’s like to be cut open alive?” The thing looked angry, but not the hollow anger it had displayed yesterday. There was a frustration in its voice.

“I won’t let that happen. I won’t let you die. If you just endure things will get better,” it finished talking, strained voice leaving silence in its wake. They stared at each other, its chest rising falling rapidly, then slowing to a normal rate. Its eyes search his face.

“Say something,” it whispered. For a moment, its eyes shinned. Keith kept his mouth shut, refusing to fall for this play. There was more silence, then the monster closed its eyes, took a deep, shaking breath, and smiled. When its eyes opened, it looked happy again, not a hint of fake emotion. Keith looked at it shocked.

It reached out and gave Keith a squeeze on the shoulder.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Good luck,” it said, voice cheerful, and then it stepped away, walking out of the room. Somehow its footfalls sounded louder on the way out.

Keith was left alone, mind reeling. What had just happened? What had it wanted? What was the point in telling him those things? Had that whole display been real? Fake? There had been other plans for him, so what? Had it been playing with him, or had there been some hidden meaning behind what it was tell him?

Keith wriggled on the slab, he was still strapped to it. The thing hadn’t given him anything. If he’d reacted to its display would he have gotten something? Been freed? Was that the point? To try and make him thankful so he’d be more cooperative?

It turned out Keith was wrong about one part; he wasn’t being left with nothing. At some point after the thing had left another druid visited him. It wasn’t Haggar, he had no idea what this one was called. He tried to talk to it, to get some information from it, but it said nothing to him. He couldn’t even see it’s face as it wore a mask, but somehow he got an air of dislike from it. The new druid came in with a fluid stand. There was a bag of clear fluid hanging from it, which had a thin, clear tube attached to it. The druid connected it to the cannula in his arm. They managed to do every movement into the most aggressive manner possible. Then they left.

Keith had to wonder, was this a reward? For not swearing at that thing today? They couldn’t be worried he would die after only one day with a drink. Two days would have been awful, but it wouldn’t have killed him. Or were they worried dehydration would affect the outcome of their experiment? To Keith that seemed more likely.

He didn’t find out why. No one returned that day. He was left alone, shivering in the dark. His thoughts, his questions, his only company. He hated it, felt like he wanted to crawl out of his own skull with boredom. He never thought that after Haggar was finished with him he’d actually miss this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Without giving too much away, the outline for future chapters is:  
> Chapter 3 - Body modification  
> Chapter 4 - Keith's life a a Galra whore  
> Chapter 5 - Shiro fucks Keith


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaah, I know, this one took ages as well (but at least its here)
> 
> I changed the tags for this chapter, but next chapter is when things get reeeeealy dark. Be warned!
> 
> Also, I kind of feel like I made Shiro too nice this chapter, but also remember that not everything Shiro says is true!
> 
> Please point out any mistakes!
> 
> And have the best new year you can!

They came back the next day. 

Injected him. 

He swore, and howled at them.

They left.

The hunger nibbled at him.

The cold numbed his limbs.

-

They came back the day after that.

Injected him. 

He swore at them.

They left.

The hunger gnawed at him.

The cold numbed his bones.

-

They came back the day after that.

Injected him. 

He didn’t make a sound.

They left.

The hunger ate at him.

He felt pleasantly warm.

-

They came back the day after that.

Injected him. 

He whined.

They left.

The hunger turned to an ache.

He felt uncomfortably hot.

-

They came back the day after that.

Injected him. 

He begged.

They left.

The hunger died.

He felt like he was burning.

-

They came back the day after that.

They didn’t inject him.

He still begged.

They stayed.

“It’s okay Keith, you’re doing well,” his dead friend, it, said. An icy hand brushed against his cheek. Keith leaned into it despite the chill. It was a release from the heat of his skin. He was coated with sweat, it trickled down him like he’d been in a sauna. It felt like he was in one, one that he couldn’t get out of.

The heat had been building for a couple of days, boiling under his skin. Making his mind foggy, unable to think past the need to cool down. 

“We’re going to make things better. We’ve realised your body can’t quite properly process what we’re putting into it, but we’re going to fix that. You want that, don’t you?” it asked.

Keith nodded his head, words taking too much energy to produce.

He felt sick, like he had a fever that just wasn’t going away.

“Just breath like normal,” it said, reassuring hand still stroking his cheek. Keith tried to, but he was gasping, needed to gasp. He needed more air, he was burning from the inside.

Something appeared over his mouth, and for a moment Keith struggled. The cool hand went from his cheek to his forehead. It felt nice, refreshing, and then it pressed down. Gripped his head in place to still his movements. The pressure was dizzying. Keith gasped, and tried to struggle again, but it felt harder. With every second it got harder to move.

He felt like he was slipping into something, some void, but it wasn’t the foggy heat pulling him down, it was something else.

He didn’t remember the exact moment he went under, but the struggle back up was clearer.

It started with voices distinct not belonging to it.

Then there was pain. An ache throbbed low in his gut. The slightest movement sent jolts to his abdomen. It made him hiss as his muscles locked in agony.

“Subject 3 is awake,” someone said. Where they referring to him?

“The incision site?” A different voice asked.

“Intact, minimal bleeding, as expected.”

There was a noise of affirmation from the first voice.

“How long till he’s functional?” A third voice asked.

“Two weeks to full recover from the surgery. Then there’s the condition, that’ll take months-,”

“I don’t care about the conditioning. How long till we can stick him in a healing pod and it won’t get rid of what you’ve put in him?” The third voice snapped.

One of the other voices grunted before replying, “He’s been pumped full of the quintessence of the creature the womb used to belong to,” there was a pause as some un-worded exchange happened, “two days.”

“Good, you’ve got three. The Emperor will arrive to watch the Paladins first fight in the arena. He needs to be functional by then.”

“Of course, Vrepit Sa.”

“Vrepit Sa.” There was a clicking of heels, and then a moment of silence.

“Bitch.”

Someone chuckled.

“She’s just grumpy ‘cause she didn’t get the blue Paladin.”

Another laugh.

“Yeah, our Champion did. Stole him right out from under her,” they both laughed, “I wish I could have seen her face when she found out.”

Keith tried to peel his eyes open to look at the voices, but they felt sticky and heavy. Everything was too bright to see properly, so he squeezed them shut again.

There was a sigh from near him, and then one of the voices spoke, “guess we should get him up.”

“I though Champion wanted him leaving here?”

“Yeah, but Lady Haggar wants the table, new experiment, so he has to go in the holding cell with the others.”

A snort, “sucks to be him.”

“Not as much as it sucks to be the others.”

There was more laughter that slowly drew closer.

Keith fought open his eyes again. Hands grabbed his limbs, and worked at the straps holding him down.

This was his chance. He could run. The right moment and he could be free. He forced his eyes open. They settled on the closest voice. It turned out to be a druid in full robes and mask.

They loosened his straps, setting his left hand free. He felt the same happen to the right. Then they moved to his legs.

He barely had time to plan anything before both his feet were free.

In one swift movement, he planted his foot into the left druid’s face.

Keith screamed. Loud. Piecing. Full of agony. It felt like his stomach was burning and tearing. He doubled over in pain, unable to do anything other than gasp and cry.

Beyond the pain, it felt strangely like he was floating. Belatedly, he realised that he was floating, druid magic holding him in the air. Then he was falling, being slammed into the ground, and the pain made everything go white.

He couldn’t even scream, just gasp, and hold himself.

“You dick, that hurt!” The druid he’d kicked yelled at him, “whack him on the floor!”

“I just did.”

“Do it again!”

“C’mon, what if his stiches come undone? I’m not dealing with a pissed of Champion and Hagger.”

There was near silence, as Keith tried his best not to move, and the druid panted angrily, clearly contemplating the repercussions of hurting Keith.

“Fine,” they snapped, before stomping over to Keith, “I’m going to remember this, and you’re going to pay, later,” they hissed, standing over him.

Keith lay still, trying not to move, trying not to breath, as pain coursed through him with every twitch of a muscle.

“The stiches intact?” the druid further away asked. A hand darted out, grabbing him by the arm. Keith let out another cry of pain as he automatically swiped the hand away.

He fell backwards as the druid let go, sending yet another jolt of pain through him. For a second the world went white again. His breath went ragged as his body froze in place.

“Yeah, they’re intact,” the druid muttered. He reached for Keith again, but stopped.

“I’ll take him,” a new voice spoke. Keith knew that voice, and despite himself, relief flooded his system as he heard it

“Champion. I-we,” one of the druids stuttered.

From where Keith lay he could see it wave a hand in friendly dismissal.

“Don’t worry, I know how Keith can be. I’ll take him back, you get your nose looked at,” it said. The tone made spite rise up in Keith’s throat.

The druids bowed and shuffled past it and it walked further into the room.

Once alone they both took a moment to stare at each other. It was in full druid gear, pleasant smile gracing its face.

“Waiting for the right time to play hero?” Keith hissed when he could finally get words out. His body tensed immediately after, as the extra movement created and shot of pain.

“I should have been here when you woke up. I’m sorry,” it said, stepping closer.

“That’s what you’re sorry for?” Keith hissed again as his words created more pain. It paused, studying him again.

“I’m sorry for a lot of things, but I can’t change them,” it looked sad as it spoke, and Keith wanted to laugh, but the fear of pain held him back.

“You don’t fight against them.”

“I tried, and I learned,” it said, moving closer to him again, “why fight when it doesn’t affect the outcome?”

“So they know they can’t break you,” Keith hissed, the pain shooting through him, but he kept going, “so they know that you’re not theirs, that what they’re doing to wrong!”

“That’s why you keep fighting,” it said, as if realising a fact. His tone scared Keith. It felt like he’d told him something he shouldn’t.

“What did you do to me?” Keith asked. He wasn’t changing the topic. He wasn’t.

After a pause, it spoke, “your body couldn’t properly process the hormones we were giving it. Omega’s have certain organs alpha don’t. We gave them to you.”

Keith had guessed that, but it still made him burn with anger.

“So now that you’ve cut me open you think I’m just going to spread my legs for you?”

It sighed, towering above him now.

“No,” it said, crouching down to Keith’s height, “you’ll fight us every step of the way. You’ve got too much fire to bow down to anyone, I both admire it, and find it incredibly frustrating,” it gave a sad chuckle, “but you can’t fight this.”

“I can and I will. Nothing you’ve done to me has changed me,” Keith hissed back, and it shook its head.

“But it has. You can’t see it. They surgery was the first physical change, but we’re changed your mind. The hormones, and the quintessence, have altered you, given you omegan reactions.”

“Bullshit,” Keith muttered, glaring at it.

“I can prove it,” it gave him a sad smile as it spoke. Keith wanted to laugh again.

Instead he sneered, “go ahead and try. You’ll only prove yourself wrong.”

It sighed and stood up, towering above Keith again. 

“Okay, but I’m warning you now, you won’t like it.”

Keith scoffed at the fake concern, “just try it.”

“Get on you knees.”

Keith’s mind went blank, before he cried out in pain as his body sprung up from the floor. His knees hit the ground as a sob escaped his lips. Then he was gasping as aches and volts of pain rattled through him from his abdomen. It felt like he was being torn apart inside.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain control of himself. His body was shaking, he couldn’t stop it, but he could control his breathing. He tried to catch his shaky breath, and regulate them, turning them rhythmic and long.

Slowly, he opened his eyes to look up at it. It was looking down at him, as if saying ‘see?’

Keith glared back angrily, and it huffed.

“Open your mouth.”

Keith’s mouth fell open. He tried to close it, to force it shut, but he couldn’t. It hung open, body complaint where his mind screamed in protest.

Its hand cupped his face, thumb running over the bottom lip of Keith’s open mouth.

“If you were born an omega you’d know how to resist these commands,” it said, before dipping its thumb side, “right now you’d let me put anything in here.”

Keith shuddered in fear. He could smell…oh god he could smell alpha arousal. It was heavy, musky, enticing. It had never smelt like that before.

Its thumb pulled back, out of his mouth, and for a split-second Keith thought it was going to put something else in there.

“You can stop now,” it said, and Keith didn’t want to admit to the amount of relief that gave him. He snapped his mouth shut and sagged down to the floor.

It stepped away from him, and didn’t do, or say, anything, as if waiting for him.

After a long stretch of Keith’s ragged breathing he broke the silence, “what now?”

It answered him slowly, “you’re going to a holding cell, to recover.”

“And then?” Keith asked, half knowing the answer.

“We’ll put you in a healing pod-,”

“and then?” Keith hissed, interrupting. It sighed again.

“And then Lord Zarkon wants to see how well the improvements have worked.”

“He’s going to rape me,” Keith said bluntly, almost hoping the raw words would shock it.

“Yes,” it replied, and anger boiled up in Keith again. It simmered over in spiteful words.

“What? Can’t wait to fuck me? Doesn’t he have enough of his own whores?”

“Zarkon wants you before they ‘stamp out his raw fire’ his words,” it replied, looking sad again.

“Fuck you,” Keith spat back, “is that what happened to you? Zarkon fucked the fight you? Going to give me tips on how to be a good whore?”

A steely look entered Shiro’s eyes, and Keith grinned. It felt like a victory, however small it was.

“Did he? Rape you?” 

“Kei-.”

“Am I your replacement?”

“Keith-.”

“Is that why you’re doing this? Is he getting too good at it? Are you starting to like it? Or is he bored of you?”

“Shut up.”

Keith’s mouth clamped shut, but he was still grinning. Its anger was sudden, fierce, and fleeting. Gone as soon as it arrived.

“I-,” it took a deep breath, “sorry, you can speak. I didn’t mean to do that.”

Keith just stared at him, still grinning, but didn’t speak. He refused to talk on command. 

The steely look in its eyes had gone. Now it just looked tired.

“I guess this feels like you’ve achieved something. Yeah, okay, Zarkon has- I’ve slept with Zarkon, even when I didn’t really want to. Is that what you want to know? That it hurt? That I screamed? That it’s happened so many times I can remember them all? Congratulations Keith, you’re not the only one in pain, and want to know something that’ll really give you that ‘got one over on him’ feeling? You know the first thing Zarkon’s going to do when he gets here? He’s going to fuck me. And you know what he’s going to do once he’s done with you? He’s going to fuck me again.”

There was a long pause and it- and then Shiro let out a heavy sigh.

“Let’s go Keith, you need to rest,” Shiro said, holding out a hand to him to take.

Keith hesitated, and the hand was dropped, “right, okay,” Shiro muttered, it sounded bitter.

Slowly, with short, tentative movements Keith pushed himself up off the floor so that he was standing facing Shiro.

The older man turned, not bothering to restrain Keith in anyway, and headed for the door with a “this way” thrown over his should.

Keith followed, a feeling of hollowness going with him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, it's been aaaages since the last update. I don't have an excuse so I'm not going to try and make one.
> 
> This chapter was going to be a lot darker 'omega training' darker, but it ended up too long for that, so next chapter will be entirely 'omega training' which is really fucking dark, so be warned.

Shiro led Keith to a cell. The trek was long, made longer by every step that sent jolts of pain through his body. It was an ache, and a knife in his gut.

The entire way the urge to run had almost been impossible to resist, but he didn’t. The halls were filled with guards and druids. They would see the moment he tried to flee, at least that’s what he told himself. Other fleeting thoughts of heavy scents, and a hand across his face, dipping its thumb into his mouth…they passed briefly, with cold shudders.

Stay in the present.

Keith knew they had to be close when the low muttering began. The-wherever he was before-had been quiet. Silent. Maybe that was a mercy, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was behind the other doors.

This door, the one Shiro had let him too, was a plain cell door, like every other that lined the bulk of the ship. It opened on command, revealing a cell that wasn’t too small, but was cramped. Aliens with features Keith’s imagination couldn’t have even begun to think of crowded into the room. They pressed away from the light of the door as it opened.

There was almost a collective breath of fear as the inhabitants saw Shiro standing in the opening. Keith grit his teeth and glared at his…his friend? What had he done to earn that fear?

“It won’t be for long,” Shiro said. Given context the words sounded more like a threat than reassurance. 

Keith didn’t move. He could still run. Work through the pain. Hope he got lucky, and found an escape pod.

Shiro waited for him, not making any attempt to move him, or voicing any questions as to why he wasn’t moving.

The moment stretched, and stretched. Inside the room some of the brave, or perhaps just nosier, prisoners began to crane their heads, trying see what was going on.

Still neither of them moved. 

The stale mate broke as Shiro’s blank expression turned to a sympathetic smile.

Somehow, at that Keith felt defeat. He let his posture slump, and, without a word, walked past Shiro, into the cell.

“It won’t be for long,” Shiro said, again, before the door hissed shut, cutting them off from one another. There was a relief in that.

Eye’s stared at him from the gloom of the cell. Some glowed bright, some dull, and some seemed darker than the room itself.

No one greeted him, the rooms leader didn’t step forward and introduce themselves, tell him how things worked here, or give him information about what the Galra did. He had to remind himself this wasn’t some movie with convenient plot moving characters. 

A few ticks passed, filled with an awkward staring match consisting of at least twenty aliens, and Keith. Feeling the need to do something, he sidestepped from the door, and settled against the wall. The others quickly lost interest in him.

This room was deafening in contrast to his previous confinement. The low murmurs, the shuffling, the breathing was nauseatingly loud. Keith wanted to curl in on himself, and cover his ears, blocking out everything, but the steady pain that coursed through his body stopped him.

So, his two options were to listen to the unintelligible whispers of the room, or concentrate on the pain. Neither sounded fun, but the pain was worse, and getting worse.

Fuck, it hurt. Hurt so fucking, fucking, fucking badly.

‘She doesn’t use anaesthetic,’ the memory of Shiro’s voice whispered to him. They had, Shiro probably thought that a kindness. A bitter snort escaped Keith, and a few of the alien’s eyes surveyed him, before quickly turning back to whatever they were doing.

If anaesthetic was a kindness, he wasn’t likely to get any painkillers. His abdomen had been sliced open in a procedure that could have easily killed him, and still could, and now he’d have to bare against the pain for the next two, three, days?

He grit his teeth, holding back a scream. No. He could get through this. He would get through this. It just-It was only pain. Intense, intense pain.

Without warning the cell door slid opened, casting blinding light into the gloom. The room held its breath as every set, and sets, of eyes watched the dark figure that cast its shadow inwards.

The creature that, after adjusting to the light, Keith realised was a druid pivoted its head sharply, in a practically demonic manner, and rasped, “120-0771,” at it pointed one long sickly purple finger into the room.

“No,” came a small whisper from somewhere.

From behind the druid, casting equally long shadows, two sentries marched into the room, making their way through the prisoners as if they didn’t exist. They halted in front of one tiny alien that Keith could barely see in the lack of light. 

“Please,” the alien whimpered as the guards reached out, and grabbed it. No one moved to stop them.

Keith’s couldn’t allow this. His whole body tensed as he slowly rose from the floor, ready to do something.

“That’s a bad idea.” Keith snapped his head to the side. The druid that had spoken, its head turned towards him, still titled oddly.

“It will be worse if you fight,” the druid continued.

Keith’s eyes narrowed as he braced himself on the wall, and spat out, “I don’t care about what happens to me.”

The druid laughed, an oddly light sound that bounced around the walls of the room.

It echoed even after he’d stopped, and mixed with the druids next words, “I wasn’t talking about you.” That made Keith pause, and give the druid a sharp, questioning look. 

“How do you intend to help? You can’t defeat the entire ship, and that’s the only way to stop its fate. If you struggle, it will only hurt it more later. Do you hear them asking for help?” Keith looked back to the alien, and didn’t answer. “No, you don’t. They understand, and you can learn from them, or learn from your own mistakes.”

The druid waited in expectant silence for his reply.

“I can’t do nothing,” Keith finally said, and the druid laughed, again, deeper this time, as if Keith had told an especially good joke.

Between breaths the druid managed to get out, “It is the kindest option.”

“How?” Keith spat back, venom, hate, dripping from the one word. The sentries had the alien now, dangling in the air between them, and were turned towards the druid. 

Now calm, the druid whispered, “why don’t you find out?” and waited. Keith took one last look at the now silent alien, and it’s blue pleading eyes, before he lunged.

He went for the druid, his biggest, and strongest obstacle. Almost simultaneously, the druid raised its hand. Without a word, a shot of purple lightning crackled out, and shot in Keith’s direction. He dodged in a stumble of movement, letting the lightning shoot past him into the dark of the room. From somewhere, someone screamed.

Knowing he didn’t have time to look, Keith kept going, but before he could collide with the druid, one of the sentries had abandoned the alien, and was slamming into him.

The sentries attack had no grace, or forethought, to it. It was a simple, effective body slam, that sent Keith crashing into the wall. His whole body hit it, but all he could feel was his stomach. The splitting pain of the impact had Keith screaming, body frozen in agony, but that wasn’t the end. 

The druid re-aimed its hand. Before Keith could move, or form a coherent thought, a second stream of lighting burst out, hitting both him, and the sentry.

He opened his mouth, but he wasn’t sure if any sound came out. All he could hear was the crackle of lightning as the world blurred, and his body failed. He slumped to the floor, the sentry going down with him. The impact jolted pain through his body, so intense the world went black.

-  
\- -  
\- - -

When the world came back, everything was blurry, from his vision to his hearing-he couldn’t even feel right.

The tail end of deadweight feet dragged passed his line of sight, and out of the room, before the cell door slid shut. Instantly, yet distantly, there was muttering, and wailing. Slowly, ever so slowly, Keith lifted, and turned his head to look up at the room.

Behind him, also on the floor, were other prisoners grouped around individuals that Keith couldn’t fully see. His gut, as it sank, told him that they’d been hit by the blast of druid magic that Keith had dodged.

There were twitching limbs, and cries of pain. Clearer now, the haze no longer protecting him.

No one looked at him, and Keith didn’t blame them. He’d caused this. He understood that. Which was why he dragged himself up to the wall, and lay there, huddled in silence, as his cellmates hushed, and sang to their hurt friends, or family-Keith didn’t know. 

The alien the druid took didn’t return.

Eventually, another set of sentries, and a druid, appeared. This time they took one of the ones moaning on the floor, and Keith didn’t move to stop them.

Sometime later a tray of food was kicked in. Singular. Not enough for everyone, but Keith didn’t feel like eating anyway.

A different set of Galra appeared, and took someone. Later, another tray was tossed in. Then the cycle was repeated again, and again, and again.

It almost seemed like an offering.

When they came for him, and a cold voice called, “prisoner 121-5550,” he didn’t realise it was him until cold hands were digging into his skin, pulling him up.

He was so startled that he started to struggle, but before he could properly begin to fight the druid who had called him by a number drew in close, and place one long, sharp hand on his stomach.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” It asked, and automatically Keith stilled, but despite the pain and the threat-no, because of it-he tried to glare down the druid.

“You’re learning,” the Druid whispered, voice smiling behind its mask, as it ignored his look, or maybe it just didn’t know what an angry human looked like.

Keith contemplated keeping his mouth shut, but he’d never been very good at that.

“I’ve learnt a lot of things, and I’ll put them all to good use when I kill you.”

He tensed, still glaring, as he waited for the retaliation, but all the Druid did was sigh, “yes, yes, you’ll rip my entrails out through my throat, and strangle me with them, or something like that,” with a huff they turned, adding, “this threatening part gets old after a while.”

Having suddenly lost interest in Keith, and the druid glided out of the room. The sentries didn’t need any prompting to follow.

They dragged him along for a surprisingly long time. Far longer than his last walk to the cell. This journey took him up, and told him that this ship had a lot more levels than the average Galra fighting ship. Really, if he had to guess, this place didn’t seem like a fighter ship at all. 

The further up they went the less militaristic the Galra seemed. Armour turned into a semblance of regular clothing, and silence filled with the timetable stamping of feet turned into chatter, laughter, and an occasional shout.

It was also warmer up here, which meant whoever ran this place cared enough about the residence to give them basic comforts. So why Keith was here?

He expected the room they eventually dumped him in to answer that question, but it didn’t. They pushed him through another generic door, and all he could make out was a simple purple room, before he was forced to his knees.

“Sit,” the Druid commanded, but Keith wasn’t paying attention to him. He was concentrating on taking in his surroundings. The walls were lined with loveseat sofas with tables scattered between them, and the occasional magazine thrown haphazardly across them. It looked like the waiting room to a very expensive spa, except there was only one exit, the door he’d just come through.

“Try to enjoy yourself,” the Druid said as a metal hands let go of him. It was a kind of farewell as the door hissed shut immediately after, cutting the druid off, and leaving Keith inside.

He was alone. This was the perfect time to escape, which probably meant this was some kind of trap, but that didn’t matter. He couldn’t pass up this chance due to fear.

With as much speed as he dared he rose to his feet. Sharp stabs of pain still coursed through his body with every movement, but he was learning to ignore it.

Before he had even fully stood up the door was opening again.

A bright Galra woman stood in the doorway. Red, yellow, and orange streaks highlighted her dark purple skin, like a child had pained warrior lines all over her face. A face that was set into a distinct look of boredom. 

Two much larger Galra flanked the woman. Both male, each with a distinctly Alpha scent.

“You were told to sit,” the woman said, with one quick up and down assessment of Keith.

“Did you really think I would?” Keith asked, voice verging on incredulous.

If you could roll your eyes with your hole face, she did. 

“Very well, I’ll start with the speech, again,” she muttered the last word with almost a sigh, and then straightened up into a military stance, “Welcome to the education centre. For the next few weeks this is going to be your home, so you’d best know the ground rules. I don’t give a shit about you. I’m not your friend, I don’t care who you were, who you’re related to, or anything else you think is relevant. You disobey me, and I will hurt you. You follow orders, and pretty soon you’ll never have to see me again,” with a sneer she added, “I promise you, that’s what you want,” then went back to her bored expression, “I am Training Sister Omega Half-Breed Galra-Abye, Sub-Classification RS,” she paused, and-in a level of patronising that took effort-added, “that means registered species,” then she continued in her original tone, “you will address me as Sister, or by my full name. You are Trainee Omega Half-Breed Galra-Terran, Sub-Classification US-Unregistered Species-you will respond to Omega. This is not up for discussion.”

She stopped and stared at Keith, giving him another once-over, making him bristle. She had said a lot of bullshit, but there was one point he wasn’t backing down on.

“It’s Keith.”

She did another face-eye roll, “yes, it’s always Wace, or Ezer, or Keth-,”

“-Keith.”

“It’s Omega. Usually at this point I’d beat you till a few things broke, but I don’t have time for that. Our Emperor will be here in two days, and I can’t stick you in a healing pod till tomorrow. So, we’re skipping manners, and going straight to acclimatisation. Alpha, if you would be so kind,” she said, making a waving gesture.

“Kneel,” both the alphas spoke, sending Keith crashing to his knees, and pain shooting through his body.

His ragged breaths mixed with the sound of clicking heels as Sister moved in closer to him. She circled him once, and stopped, placing both her hands on his shoulders as she stood behind him.

“Now,” she said, matter-of-factly, “you have two choices. Open your mouth, or this kind Alpha will open it for you.”

A sickening, clearly not pain, feeling churned in Keith’s get, but he refused to give them what they wanted. He’d never let this be easy, so he clenched his jaw shut, and glared across the room at the offending men, making sure to make eye contact with each of them. 

He felt Sister lean down to his ear, her hair tickling his neck as she whispered, “I get the feeling that we’re going to get to know each other very well,” then she raised her head, and said in a louder voice, “Alpha.”

“Open your mouth,” they both commanded, one stoic, the other grinning.

For a second, it felt like he wasn’t there, his body and mind weren’t part of the same being, but then he was back in the room, mouth hanging open as both the alphas were stepping forwards, closing in.

The Sister squeezed his shoulders lightly, as the grinning alpha bough one his hands up to cup Keith’s cheek.

He instantly flinched away, and the hand followed him, sharper and faster. It grabbed his hair, jerking him back into position, grinning the whole time.

The woman behind Keith clicked her tongue, and the alpha’s grip loosened. It was just enough to keep him in place, but not enough to hurt.

“Now, I presume you have a good idea of what happens next, but I want to make sure we’re all on the same ship. These lovely young men are going to teach you fellatio. Don’t worry,” she added another shoulder squeeze, “there won’t be an exam, not today.”

Keith made an angry noise, but it was hard to make any coherent sounds when he couldn’t close his mouth.

“Just enjoy today,” Sister continued, “they’ll only be using your mouth. We’ll move further down when you insides are less…messed up.”


End file.
